


I Love You

by codewordpumpkin



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-27 03:02:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18295523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codewordpumpkin/pseuds/codewordpumpkin
Summary: Liz checks up on Red to see how he's doing after the Saram fiasco.





	I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> This is a slighttttttt AU... you'll know what I mean when you get to the end.

Liz breathed a sigh of relief.

After the team had returned to the Post Office, she had gone straight to his latest safe house. Upon finding it empty, she had feared that they had already jetted off, long gone and far away from DC—and if they had, well, she wouldn’t have blamed them. She knew that Red genuinely cared for Aram, and having to take Samar away from him—not to mention, being physically hit by the guy who had feared and respected him in equal amounts—would do little to maintain the high spirits he had been in following his brush with death and newfound freedom.

After an initial moment of panic, she had decided to search for him in the places he was most likely to be at—if he still happened to be in the city, that is. She hadn’t been certain he would be here, but still, feeling both determined and motivated, she had placed firm, steady pressure on the pedal, swerving past cars like a madman and driving at a speed that might have gotten her pulled over had she not used her trusty red-and-blue lights. And if he happened to not be here, she would have gone to his Bethesda apartment next.

But she had had a feeling…

And she had been right.

_The Writer's House._

The black Mercedes parked on the street had her muscles relaxing and her lungs filling with air. She took a moment to just _breathe_ before hopping out of her car and practically running to his doorstep, the sound of knuckles against wood being drowned out by the heavy bass pumping blood through her ears. Just as she was considering picking the lock, the door opened.

“Elizabeth.”

“ _Dembe_ ,” she breathed, meeting his blank face, “I need to see him.”

He nodded, his eyes knowing. Without a word, he stepped aside to let her in—and she knew where to go without being instructed.

There he was, sitting in the corner of the couch, one arm stretched across the back of it, with the other lounging on the armrest, a glass of scotch dangling from his loose grasp. He had been facing the window—as she had known he would be—presumably watching the ethereal glow of the moon blur the night, looking past the branches and its budding leaves to observe the milky light break through the darkness.

She knew that _he knew_ that she was there, but he remained still, and she continued to lean against the doorway.

“Elizabeth,” he finally said, his voice low and raspy and just barely audible. “What brings you here?”

“You,” she replied honestly, simply.

“Is there something you needed? I’m sorry to say, I don’t have a blacklister to give you at the moment.”

“The only thing I need is to see you.”

He took a sip of the amber liquid before slowly turning his head to face her. His expression was shuttered, closed off. “Well? You’ve seen me, Lizzie. Now if that’s all…” he once again hid from her gaze.

She shook her head, taking the few steps necessary to reach the couch. Instead of occupying the available corner, she took the seat directly beside him, so close that their thighs touched. He stiffened, but didn’t acknowledge her.

“Red,” she said, quietly and delicately as if he were an injured animal that would flee at the slightest scare. In a way, she supposed he was. “Look at me.” When he failed to do as she requested, she added, “ _Please_.”

That did it.

Even in the dim lighting, she could clearly see that the corner of his lip was busted, and a bruise had already begun to form on his swelling cheek. She sighed softly. “Are you all right?”

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Surely you must know I’ve been through far worse.”

“This is different.”

The smirk dropped. “I’m fine,” he said, those two words coming out so gravelly that she was surprised he didn’t choke on them. “… It’s far less than what I deserve, in any case,” he murmured.

“Don’t,” she snapped, gentle but firm. “Samar is the one who chose to leave him. All you did was help her to get away safely—and to _stay_ safe. He has to see that. Just give it time.”

He shook his head. “I took away the love of his life,” a tell-tale twitch appeared high on his cheek, “and as a person who has been where he is right now, I know he will never forgive me for this.”

 _As a person who has been where he is right now_ _…_

“You’re talking about when I…” The lump in her throat prevented her from finishing the painful statement.

“When you died and disappeared, yes,” he confirmed.

_Was this where they would always return to? Was it truly impossible to move past?_

“Will you ever forgive me for that?” she asked, her voice cracking like splintered glass.

He stared at her intently. “… It was never something I had the right to forgive, Elizabeth.”

When she could no longer hold her tears and allowed them to flow freely, his face instantly softened, a little warmth creeping into the cold. “Did you come all this way just to ask if I’m all right, Lizzie? In case you’ve forgotten, I do know how to use a phone.” For her sake, he quirked his lips and changed the subject. “As touched as I am to see you worry about me, I can assure you, I’m perfectly fine. I barely felt it, in all honesty—it was the shock more than anything, really. I mean, it’s _Aram_ we’re talking about.”

He was babbling, wanting to make her feel better when it was him who needed the consoling.

As always, he was putting her first.

“No.”

“I’m sorry?” he said, evidently confused by her response.

“No, I didn’t come all this way just to ask if you’re all right.”

He tilted his head, waiting for her to elaborate.

Slowly, without once breaking their eye-contact, she raised her hand until it met his jaw. He tensed, so she kept it there for a beat, waiting to see if he would push her away. When he didn’t, she slid it higher until her fingers cradled the side of his face, grazing his ear and his short, soft hair. Leaning in, inch by inch until they were only a breath away, she brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth, exerting just the slightest pressure over his new injury—courtesy of Aram or not.

They stayed like that—for seconds or minutes, she couldn’t be sure—but finally, she broke the contact, only to rest her forehead against his. “I love you,” she confessed in a single exhale.

His mouth parted in surprise, and his eyes, which she hadn’t realized were closed until that moment, snapped open. They were wide and wet and carrying the remnants of his broken soul. 

“I love you,” she re-affirmed, stronger this time. Stroking his cheek, she smiled. “That’s what I wanted to say. That’s what I wanted you to hear.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had to write this fic. I just had to.  
> Hope you guys enjoyed!


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